The Sharp Crease of a New Day
by emeraldgreenhammock
Summary: A tuxedo is the catalyst for many big changes in the life of a small raccoon. M/R friendship.


"Mordecai!" Rigby's bare feet clacked against the hardwood floor as he ran down the hallway, holding a plastic game cover in his hands. "Mordecai! I found the game!"

"Strong Johns?" came Mordecai's muffled voice from the bathroom. Rigby skidded to a halt. "Yayuh!" he called back through the closed door.

"It's about time, that thing's been gone for a week!" Mordecai chuckled. "Was it in your pile of dirty socks again?

"No, it was in my perfectly CLEAN pile of bed-laundry!" Rigby yelled defensively. "Not that it matters, let's just go pla-" his exclamation was cut short by the sight of Mordecai stepping out of the bathroom. "Are-are you wearing a tux?"

Indeed he was. Six feet tall, in a tuxedo tailored to fit his strange body shape, feather tufts groomed to a point. "Yeah dude. I've got a date with Margaret tonight." He couldn't hold back a smile. "Whaddya think? Classy? Or cuh-lass-eyyyy?" he said, striking a pose.

"Tuxes are weird," Rigby said, wrinkling his nose.

"I kinda like it," Mordecai said, smoothing a few wrinkles unnecessarily. "It makes me feel...grown-up."

Rigby put a cupped hand to his mouth. "La-ame." Mordecai rolled his eyes and the two began walking down the stairs.

"Why do you need one anyway?" Rigby asked, curious. "Usually you don't wear anything."

"Yeah, but tonight, we're going to the Ivory Delight," Mordecai said, the excitement evident on his face.

The game slipped from Rigby's hand and clattered down the remaining steps. "The Ivory Delight?" he asked incredulously, not even bothering to chase after the game. "That's like a bazillion dollars! How'd you even afford that?"

"I've been saving up, haven't you noticed?" Mordecai asked, watching Strong Johns slide to rest on the hardwood floor below.

Rigby scratched his head. "How would I know that you're saving up?"

"You know, when I kept refusing to buy those video games with you," Mordecai reminded him.

"Ohh yeah..." Rigby said, recalling the fits he threw in video-game lust as he picked up Strong Johns from the floor. Sort of embarrassing to think about that now, really.

"Wait, you forgot about all that already?" Mordecai asked, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. "You threatened me with the end of our friendship every time!"

Rigby shrugged. "Eh, I'm over it. Well if you want to be a boring tux-wearer, suit yourself." He snickered at his own cleverness. "Heh heh. Suit yourself. Heh heh. But whatever, I'll just be playing Strong Johns by myself." Rigby leaped over the couch arm and slumped down into the cushions, grabbing at one of the controllers.

"Dude, Strong Johns is multiplayer only," Mordecai smiled a rather infuriating sly smile.

"Shut up, tux-boy," Rigby spat, too bitter to simply be teasing. "and go on your date."

Mordecai paused, blinked, and instead of walking away like usual, he walked toward the couch.  
>"Okay, Rigby. What is wrong. You've been acting really...weird every time I go out with Margaret. And what's up with the tux hate? Are you jealous?"<p>

"STOP TALKING!" Rigby screamed, turning his nose up. Mordecai, unfortunately, seemed unfazed.

"Dude, you _are _jealous. Are_ you_ in love with Margaret? Or me?" He chuckled, then paused, his eyes widening in alarm to perfect spheres. "Oh-oh god, are you in love with me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Mordecai," Rigby said, rolling his eyes. "You're just my bro, and I'm happy for you, I really am." He turned back toward the flickering TV, and punched a few buttons on the remote, hoping that Mordecai would just go on his date, already.

No such luck. "No dude, come on," Mordecai insisted, taking a couple steps closer. "You've been acting all weird lately, and I really want to know why. Please, tell me what's wrong," Mordecai said, the concern in his voice more evident.

"Ugh, _fine_," Rigby said flippantly, although he began his confession in fits and starts.

"It's that-I just- You..." he sighed and began again. "You've-you've been seeing Margaret more and hanging out with me less." Once he was on a roll, the wavering words quickly tumbled out of his mouth as his face got redder.

"I guess I'm jealous that you want to spend time with Margaret. And...that you _have_ somebody to want in that way. I've never really...had that," Rigby trailed off as he shifted his hands around in his lap. Could Mordecai hear his heart racing?

"You're my best friend...nyahhlright my ONLY friend. If you go off and get married or whatever...I'll be completely alone," he finished quietly, looking down at his knees.  
>Mordecai still stood there, staring, as if he was seeing Rigby for the first time. After a moment or two, the couch lifted Rigby up a little bit as Mordecai sat down on the other cushion.<p>

"Don't worry about it, Rigby," Mordecai said, encouragingly. "We'll always be best bros. Dating Margaret could never change that." Rigby remained motionless, continuing to memorize every detail of his own thighs. Mordecai sighed. "Look, Rigby, I'm not going to abandon you. Remember, you're _my_ best friend, too, and I dunno what I would do without _my _bro, either." Rigby finally looked up, and saw Mordecai smiling at him. He managed a small smile back. "But I've got a girlfriend now," the blue jay continued, "So that means that I've just...got less time." Mordecai looked at the clock on the wall. "Speaking of, I gotta go dude. Strong Johns tomorrow night?" He asked, pointing at him as he walked backwards toward the door.

"Yeah, man, definitely," Rigby said, although his shaky voice was still recovering from his emotional outpouring. His immediate thought was to bring back the biting edge to his voice and yell "In yo' face, loser! I didn't mean any of it!"

But he knew that those words would ring hollow for both of them, so he kept his mouth shut and allowed the uncomfortable change in atmosphere to take place. As he watched his tux-clad best friend stride off into the night, he felt the tears stinging. He knew that Mordecai was growing away from him, despite the claims that they'd always be best friends. Choking back a sob, he ran on all fours to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the dirty, spotted mirror.

"Ew" was the first thing to mind. A weak little raccoon, tiny arms hanging from drooping shoulders, sniffling and pouting because his friend had a date. Pathetic. And it was making his back sore. With a great effort, he stood up a little straighter. The pain in his back eased. He took another glance.

"Not bad," he thought. He puffed his chest out.

"Hmm." Struck by a sudden idea, he sprinted up the stairs to his trampoline, pulled out a black necktie that he had never worn, slipped it on, and raced back to the mirror.

"Aw yeah," he thought. "I am classy." He stood and smiled at his reflection for a minute.

Maybe some growing up would suit him, too.


End file.
